![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_silver_storyTitle: The Ballad of Ianto Jones
Chapter: 2 | Mrs. Cooper
Characters: Jack Harkness, OFC, OMC, Gwen Cooper
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
a_silver_story
Genre Angst like yo momma's watchin'
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Can't summarise without spoiling, really. It's post-COE, so go figure.
FIRST PART | Keeping Promises
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
02 |
Jack wasn’t made to be kept in four walls. He hated being confined. To pass the time, he paced around the sterile white room, cracking his knuckles in frustration. There were no windows: no way to tell what time it was or how long before someone would come and ease him out of his boredom. Exasperated, he punched the button on the wall that would open up the Mrs. Cooper interface. A HoloScreen appeared on the wall, black and empty. Gwen’s head flickered into the space, smiling politely.
“Good evening, Captain Harkness. How may I help you?”
“I ... erm ...” Why had he activated her again? He wasn’t sure.
The projection raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t waste my time, Captain.”
Jack took a deep breath. “I need you to ... search for me.”
“Search what?”
“A name.” Jack considered the last attempt. Maybe he should go with birthday rather than deathday? What was Ianto's birthday? He shook the guilt from his mind. “Ianto Jones, born in Cardiff. Died in 2009. Worked for Torchwood Three.”
Mrs. Cooper’s head flickered, then solidified again on the sweet, polite smile. “No Ianto Jones on record. However, I have hits for Ianto Williams and a Ianto Spencer. Does this help?”
“No.” rasped Jack. “Can you broaden the search to civilian files?”
“I already did. The only ‘Ianto's’ in the Cardiff area around a sensible time period to the search you requested are Ianto Addams, Ianto Davies, Ianto Harrogate, Ianto Kingsway, Ianto Percival, Ianto Smith, Ianto Williams, Ianto Young, Jr. All were also below the age of eighteen or above the age of sixty-five, making them unemployable by the Torchwood Institute, in line with Torchwood Rules and Regulations as laid down by Queen Victoria I and later revised by the Great Gwen Cooper.”
Jack stared at her. “Nothing?” he asked, not that he’d thought Tanya and Diana had lied to him.
“The search returned negative.”
The Captain looked away. A thought struck him. “Could you do me another search? Quickly?”
The Gwen projection looked shifty. “I don’t know. James is already edgy about Tanya searching for you – yes I know about that, and James is a control freak, don’t cross him – and without clearance, I’m not sure how deep I’ll be able to go this time.”
“You’re a sentient super computer, and you have to ask permission from someone pretending to be James Bond?” chided Jack. The Gwen flickered, and again returned with the polite smile.
“Just for you, Jack. I’ll try and hide the search signature.”
He smiled gratefully. “Search for ... Rhiannon Davies. Round about the same time period.”
Again, Mrs. Cooper flickered. She solidified with a smile. “Rhiannon Davies, eldest child of Mr. and Mrs. Jones, no forenames on record, married Jonathan Davies aged twenty-two. Bore two children, David and Mica. Died aged sixty-four of natural causes. No occupation on record, assumed housewife. Husband was a mechanic. No home address on record, presumed demolished in the fire of 2072. Possible residences inclu-“
“Okay, okay.” Jack cut her off. “So ... the first thing you said. Eldest child? She was the eldest child?”
“Yes.”
“Of how many?”
“Two.”
“Eldest of two siblings. What was her younger sibling’s name?”
Mrs. Cooper blinked and flickered. Her face returned stoic.
“Your actions are not authorised. Torchwood Operatives will be on their way to carry out necessary procedures. Please remain by the Mrs. Cooper station you have activated, or force may be used to retrieve you. Please note this is an automated message. There is no need to respond.”
Jack stared at her. His suspicions were confirmed. Someone – possibly Real Gwen – had deleted Ianto from the system. From the world, even. And meticulously. Even the version of herself she had programmed into the mainframe didn’t know. Why would they be protecting the information still? Maybe the name was red flagged. One of those security issues you feel compelled to protect no matter what, even if you don’t understand why. Jack ground his teeth, not realising until the salt met his lips that tears had leaked down his face.
There was a knock on the door behind him, and Diana entered looking concerned.
“I told you not to try it without clearance.” she admonished, but pulled him in for a hug. Did he really look so upset he needed a hug from a stranger? He hugged her back, grateful for the gesture. “I won’t take out procedure this time, but please: stop. James will go mental if he thinks were going behind his back. He makes it his business to know everything.”
Jack nodded silently. He slumped down into the couch as Diana turned off the Mrs. Cooper interface, still relaying her message. She didn’t even ask permission as she sat herself down the sofa beside him and curled her legs underneath her.
“Tell me about him.” she said. Jack shifted a little uncomfortably. She noticed and softened her tone even more. “If something’s happened to the information : corruption, deletion – stuff like that – we might have a case. But I don’t think James will let us dig around unless he thinks the case is worth it. The past is the past to him. We can’t change it. Given the state you’re in, I’d say it’s more of a need to know than a want to know, yeah?”
“Know what?”
“Whether something happened in the past to change the timeline, or if something’s happening now.”
Jack nodded.
Diana extended an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. “Tell me about him.”
“He ... he was my partner.” began Jack. The tears welled up again. How many partners had he had since? How many more would he have from now on? Why did He still matter so much?
“Long ago ... a thousand years ago ... my partner ... and ... he died. And it was my fault. All my fault. Everything. It all happened because ... because ... I can’t remember why, but it was definitely my fault. I remember ... him in my arms. He was so weak ... already a dead weight, and hanging on with everything he had left just to beg me ... beg me ... beg me not to forget him. But ... you couldn’t understand. He was so ... different. After him I swore never to let myself love like that again. Stayed away from the quiet, well-dressed ones. Went for people like me. Bastards. Total bastards. Because of how much it hurt. Right to the centre of my being. First thought and last thought, and pretty much all thoughts in between. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I never ... he lay there in my arms ... dying ... he even turned blue, which was insulting. Everyone knew red was his colour. But ... he lay there in my arms ... he told me he loved me. And I wanted to scream it at him – scream at him that I loved him more, that I loved him longer than he loved me. That I couldn’t let myself go again. Couldn’t give myself to anyone like that again. But I didn’t. I said ... you know what I said? He said “I love you” and I said “Don’t.” What the fuck was I doing? He was going ... he was leaving me. I didn’t say it. Was it arrogance? A defence mechanism? I think so. Losing him was too hard .... and now ... I’ve come back. To this graveyard of a planet. I’ve come back, and there’s nothing. Nothing of the amazing things he did, nothing of the good and kindness that he worked so hard for. Nothing. All gone. They didn’t even spare him an inch on your stupid Memorial. It’s like I’ve lost him all over again, but this time it’s more permanent because there’s nothing left to bring his memory back to me. He’s gotten blurred around the edges, y’see. I picture him in my head, but that’s not him really. The body isn’t his – it’s too slender – but I can’t remember what his real one looked like, so I stick with that. His hands were bigger, and he never wore rings. But what other hands can I remember? His hair wasn’t that colour, I’m sure. Maybe it was darker. Maybe it was shorter. His face seems so distant ... I remember his lips were the perfect shade of pink, and softer than anything I’ve ever known – but I only remember those as facts. I can’t imagine them; I can’t see the shape of his mouth, the angles of his Welsh teeth, feel the texture or dampness of lips on my skin. I just remember the facts – and now even those are being taken away from me. And d’you know what? Even if it meant ripping open a schism in the fabric of reality – if I had the power to do it – just to absorb the Time Vortex in its rawest form (even rawer than that found in the TARDIS), then I’d do it to bring him back. I’d risk the Multi-Verse itself just to have him back again.”
Diana was silent, not having understood a lot of his rambling, and was rubbing soothing circles on Jack’s back. He’d let it all out in a big tidal wave, and now neither of them were sure what to say. Eventually, Diana let out a long breath.
“Captain Harkness, I think it’s right you know this.” she said carefully. Jack sat bolt upright, his eyes wide, intent and listening. “Tanya ... Tanya and Lieutenant Crewe – she’s in Research – Tanya and Lieutenant Crewe found something. It’s tiny, and it’s miniscule, but it might lead to something more. Totally secret, you understand?”
Jack’s pulse was racing and his mouth was dry. “What was it?” he asked hoarsely.
“We found one hit for ‘Ianto Jones’ in the Classified Archives. We were curious as to ... well ... the records from that time. They say ... you’re not a Time Traveller, are you?” she gave him a sideways glance. “You didn’t change a timeline, so someone’s gone back and changed things – like you said – and ... well. Classified Archives ... even Tanya’s not allowed to mess with those. So we had to get the Lieutenant to agree to a quick off-the-record shufti. Lucky she and Tanya have a thing going, or we’d never have got the access code.”
“Please, Diana.” pleaded Jack. “Please ... tell me what you found.”
“Like I said: one hit for the name “Ianto Jones”. The document is dated 2007, but the exact day it was created is a little vague. It’s a tiny memo – not even a miniscule blip in the system – reminding Doctor Owen Harper to stop using the communal fridge for storing alien blood samples. It’s got the signature ‘Mr. Ianto Jones’. One tiny, forgotten email still in the system. The only record of his existence as far as we can tell ...”
“That’s him!” Jack nearly shouted. “That’s him that’s him that’s him!” He pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug and she gasped in surprise. “You found him! You found him! Thank you thank you thank you!”
Diana peeled his arms from around her, laughing at how pleased he was. “So ... yes. We’ve found this tiny blip: now we can get you an appointment to pitch an appeal for an Access-All-Areas Research Permit from James. I think if we present the information correctly, outline our needs, specify goals and ensure he knows this is a Torchwood matter, not completely personal – as you said, he was Torchwood personnel. We have a responsibility to those who die to protect us –“ Jack flinched at the word ‘die’ being associated with Ianto. “so James can’t really say no. He might even grant us a research team.”
“We?” asked Jack. “Us?”
“Yeah.” said Diana. “I want to help you. I know what it’s like ... to look back, and find nothing of what you knew.” she fell silent and looked away. Jack didn’t pry.
A breakthrough had been made. Diana would get an appointment with James to arrange the meeting for the pitch, and soon they would have all the access they needed to try and dredge up anything else that was left of Ianto.
“Oh!” said Diana, pausing as she got up to leave. “One of our new tech wizards had an idea.”
“How many people did you discuss this with?” asked Jack, incredulous. He had the feeling, after Mrs. Cooper’s warning not to cross James that they should be thus far keeping this little predicament under wraps.
“Trustworthy people.” said Diana. “Anyway ... she said that if you have a photograph, or an image of any kind of who we’re looking for, she can scan it and convert it into Binary coding. From there she can translate it into Old Binary, and from there into the Ancient Binary used in the twenty-first to twenty-ninth centuries. Then she can search through the Internet and find coding matches. It’ll be easier to unearth all this with image matches – any news reports, blog postings, BookFace sites that have an image of him will surely also contain some form of information either to him or someone close. What do you think?”
Jack turned the information over in his head. “I have one photograph. But promise ... promise me you will bring it back?”
“I swear.”
Jack rooted through his RAF coat, still in the same new condition it always was. Alien tech sometimes worked marvellous wonders. “Ianto bought me this coat.” he said as his fingers closed around the photograph paper in the pocket.
“It more than suits you.” smiled Diana. Jack grinned back. He produced the piece of thinning paper, and looked at it doubtfully.
“He used to be there.” he pointed to an area of the photo that looked exactly the same as the rest of the piece of paper. A couple of darker lines showed where vague silhouettes had stood, but the area where Jack indicated was completely blank to the naked eye. “I kissed him away ...” Jack said more to himself than to Diana, so she said nothing and took the ancient photo.
“I’ll see if there’s anything we can do with this.” she said, but Doubt was creeping through her stomach. It looked like a piece of yellowing paper to her. She decided not to give up hope. Maybe Lennie Tech Wizard-ette would be able to do something with it.
Jack touched her arm as she turned to leave. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“You ... like this James guy, right?”
She turned a sweet shade of pink. “Yeah. But once you meet him, you will too.”
Jack gave her a watery smile. “Nothing’s going on between the two of you?”
“No.” she said ruefully.
“Then he’s an idiot. And you can tell him that from me.” winked Jack.
“I don’t think I will, thanks.” she said, trying to sound confident but grinning sheepishly.
“Hmm ... might damage your chances.” he joked.
“You’re a charmer, you are.” she smiled, and he reached out to brush hair out of her eyes. He moved closer, and lowered his head. He caught her lips gently and pressed them both together, snaking his other arm around her to pull her closer. She responded, and probed her tongue into his mouth.
She pulled back after a second or two. “Just a shag, yeah?” she asked, already looking lusty.
“I don’t do relationships.” shrugged Jack.
Diana grabbed him by the lapels and threw him onto the bed.
“Better make this quick, yeah?” she said, straddling his hips and kissing and biting his neck. “I’ve got a meeting in half an hour.”
FIN
I promise to get back to the IM fic once I've finsihed raping this plot bunny.
Andfancieflights can stop sitting on me now. It makes it hard to type chapters :-P
Next Part | Previous Part | Torchwood Index | Request a Convo/Prose Fic
Chapter: 2 | Mrs. Cooper
Characters: Jack Harkness, OFC, OMC, Gwen Cooper
Author:
a_silver_storyGenre Angst like yo momma's watchin'
Rating: PG-13
Warnings:
SPOILERS FOR COE! DON'T READ!
Disclaimer: If I owned anything in this, I'd be a rich rich rich bitch. However, I am not a rich rich rich bitch so you may all, therefore, assume I own nothing. Which I don't. It all belongs RTD and the BBC, in case any of you didn't know.
Summary: Can't summarise without spoiling, really. It's post-COE, so go figure.
FIRST PART | Keeping Promises
PREVIOUS | Torchwood Index/Masterlist
02 |
Jack wasn’t made to be kept in four walls. He hated being confined. To pass the time, he paced around the sterile white room, cracking his knuckles in frustration. There were no windows: no way to tell what time it was or how long before someone would come and ease him out of his boredom. Exasperated, he punched the button on the wall that would open up the Mrs. Cooper interface. A HoloScreen appeared on the wall, black and empty. Gwen’s head flickered into the space, smiling politely.
“Good evening, Captain Harkness. How may I help you?”
“I ... erm ...” Why had he activated her again? He wasn’t sure.
The projection raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t waste my time, Captain.”
Jack took a deep breath. “I need you to ... search for me.”
“Search what?”
“A name.” Jack considered the last attempt. Maybe he should go with birthday rather than deathday? What was Ianto's birthday? He shook the guilt from his mind. “Ianto Jones, born in Cardiff. Died in 2009. Worked for Torchwood Three.”
Mrs. Cooper’s head flickered, then solidified again on the sweet, polite smile. “No Ianto Jones on record. However, I have hits for Ianto Williams and a Ianto Spencer. Does this help?”
“No.” rasped Jack. “Can you broaden the search to civilian files?”
“I already did. The only ‘Ianto's’ in the Cardiff area around a sensible time period to the search you requested are Ianto Addams, Ianto Davies, Ianto Harrogate, Ianto Kingsway, Ianto Percival, Ianto Smith, Ianto Williams, Ianto Young, Jr. All were also below the age of eighteen or above the age of sixty-five, making them unemployable by the Torchwood Institute, in line with Torchwood Rules and Regulations as laid down by Queen Victoria I and later revised by the Great Gwen Cooper.”
Jack stared at her. “Nothing?” he asked, not that he’d thought Tanya and Diana had lied to him.
“The search returned negative.”
The Captain looked away. A thought struck him. “Could you do me another search? Quickly?”
The Gwen projection looked shifty. “I don’t know. James is already edgy about Tanya searching for you – yes I know about that, and James is a control freak, don’t cross him – and without clearance, I’m not sure how deep I’ll be able to go this time.”
“You’re a sentient super computer, and you have to ask permission from someone pretending to be James Bond?” chided Jack. The Gwen flickered, and again returned with the polite smile.
“Just for you, Jack. I’ll try and hide the search signature.”
He smiled gratefully. “Search for ... Rhiannon Davies. Round about the same time period.”
Again, Mrs. Cooper flickered. She solidified with a smile. “Rhiannon Davies, eldest child of Mr. and Mrs. Jones, no forenames on record, married Jonathan Davies aged twenty-two. Bore two children, David and Mica. Died aged sixty-four of natural causes. No occupation on record, assumed housewife. Husband was a mechanic. No home address on record, presumed demolished in the fire of 2072. Possible residences inclu-“
“Okay, okay.” Jack cut her off. “So ... the first thing you said. Eldest child? She was the eldest child?”
“Yes.”
“Of how many?”
“Two.”
“Eldest of two siblings. What was her younger sibling’s name?”
Mrs. Cooper blinked and flickered. Her face returned stoic.
“Your actions are not authorised. Torchwood Operatives will be on their way to carry out necessary procedures. Please remain by the Mrs. Cooper station you have activated, or force may be used to retrieve you. Please note this is an automated message. There is no need to respond.”
Jack stared at her. His suspicions were confirmed. Someone – possibly Real Gwen – had deleted Ianto from the system. From the world, even. And meticulously. Even the version of herself she had programmed into the mainframe didn’t know. Why would they be protecting the information still? Maybe the name was red flagged. One of those security issues you feel compelled to protect no matter what, even if you don’t understand why. Jack ground his teeth, not realising until the salt met his lips that tears had leaked down his face.
There was a knock on the door behind him, and Diana entered looking concerned.
“I told you not to try it without clearance.” she admonished, but pulled him in for a hug. Did he really look so upset he needed a hug from a stranger? He hugged her back, grateful for the gesture. “I won’t take out procedure this time, but please: stop. James will go mental if he thinks were going behind his back. He makes it his business to know everything.”
Jack nodded silently. He slumped down into the couch as Diana turned off the Mrs. Cooper interface, still relaying her message. She didn’t even ask permission as she sat herself down the sofa beside him and curled her legs underneath her.
“Tell me about him.” she said. Jack shifted a little uncomfortably. She noticed and softened her tone even more. “If something’s happened to the information : corruption, deletion – stuff like that – we might have a case. But I don’t think James will let us dig around unless he thinks the case is worth it. The past is the past to him. We can’t change it. Given the state you’re in, I’d say it’s more of a need to know than a want to know, yeah?”
“Know what?”
“Whether something happened in the past to change the timeline, or if something’s happening now.”
Jack nodded.
Diana extended an arm around his shoulders comfortingly. “Tell me about him.”
“He ... he was my partner.” began Jack. The tears welled up again. How many partners had he had since? How many more would he have from now on? Why did He still matter so much?
“Long ago ... a thousand years ago ... my partner ... and ... he died. And it was my fault. All my fault. Everything. It all happened because ... because ... I can’t remember why, but it was definitely my fault. I remember ... him in my arms. He was so weak ... already a dead weight, and hanging on with everything he had left just to beg me ... beg me ... beg me not to forget him. But ... you couldn’t understand. He was so ... different. After him I swore never to let myself love like that again. Stayed away from the quiet, well-dressed ones. Went for people like me. Bastards. Total bastards. Because of how much it hurt. Right to the centre of my being. First thought and last thought, and pretty much all thoughts in between. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I never ... he lay there in my arms ... dying ... he even turned blue, which was insulting. Everyone knew red was his colour. But ... he lay there in my arms ... he told me he loved me. And I wanted to scream it at him – scream at him that I loved him more, that I loved him longer than he loved me. That I couldn’t let myself go again. Couldn’t give myself to anyone like that again. But I didn’t. I said ... you know what I said? He said “I love you” and I said “Don’t.” What the fuck was I doing? He was going ... he was leaving me. I didn’t say it. Was it arrogance? A defence mechanism? I think so. Losing him was too hard .... and now ... I’ve come back. To this graveyard of a planet. I’ve come back, and there’s nothing. Nothing of the amazing things he did, nothing of the good and kindness that he worked so hard for. Nothing. All gone. They didn’t even spare him an inch on your stupid Memorial. It’s like I’ve lost him all over again, but this time it’s more permanent because there’s nothing left to bring his memory back to me. He’s gotten blurred around the edges, y’see. I picture him in my head, but that’s not him really. The body isn’t his – it’s too slender – but I can’t remember what his real one looked like, so I stick with that. His hands were bigger, and he never wore rings. But what other hands can I remember? His hair wasn’t that colour, I’m sure. Maybe it was darker. Maybe it was shorter. His face seems so distant ... I remember his lips were the perfect shade of pink, and softer than anything I’ve ever known – but I only remember those as facts. I can’t imagine them; I can’t see the shape of his mouth, the angles of his Welsh teeth, feel the texture or dampness of lips on my skin. I just remember the facts – and now even those are being taken away from me. And d’you know what? Even if it meant ripping open a schism in the fabric of reality – if I had the power to do it – just to absorb the Time Vortex in its rawest form (even rawer than that found in the TARDIS), then I’d do it to bring him back. I’d risk the Multi-Verse itself just to have him back again.”
Diana was silent, not having understood a lot of his rambling, and was rubbing soothing circles on Jack’s back. He’d let it all out in a big tidal wave, and now neither of them were sure what to say. Eventually, Diana let out a long breath.
“Captain Harkness, I think it’s right you know this.” she said carefully. Jack sat bolt upright, his eyes wide, intent and listening. “Tanya ... Tanya and Lieutenant Crewe – she’s in Research – Tanya and Lieutenant Crewe found something. It’s tiny, and it’s miniscule, but it might lead to something more. Totally secret, you understand?”
Jack’s pulse was racing and his mouth was dry. “What was it?” he asked hoarsely.
“We found one hit for ‘Ianto Jones’ in the Classified Archives. We were curious as to ... well ... the records from that time. They say ... you’re not a Time Traveller, are you?” she gave him a sideways glance. “You didn’t change a timeline, so someone’s gone back and changed things – like you said – and ... well. Classified Archives ... even Tanya’s not allowed to mess with those. So we had to get the Lieutenant to agree to a quick off-the-record shufti. Lucky she and Tanya have a thing going, or we’d never have got the access code.”
“Please, Diana.” pleaded Jack. “Please ... tell me what you found.”
“Like I said: one hit for the name “Ianto Jones”. The document is dated 2007, but the exact day it was created is a little vague. It’s a tiny memo – not even a miniscule blip in the system – reminding Doctor Owen Harper to stop using the communal fridge for storing alien blood samples. It’s got the signature ‘Mr. Ianto Jones’. One tiny, forgotten email still in the system. The only record of his existence as far as we can tell ...”
“That’s him!” Jack nearly shouted. “That’s him that’s him that’s him!” He pulled her in for a bone-crushing hug and she gasped in surprise. “You found him! You found him! Thank you thank you thank you!”
Diana peeled his arms from around her, laughing at how pleased he was. “So ... yes. We’ve found this tiny blip: now we can get you an appointment to pitch an appeal for an Access-All-Areas Research Permit from James. I think if we present the information correctly, outline our needs, specify goals and ensure he knows this is a Torchwood matter, not completely personal – as you said, he was Torchwood personnel. We have a responsibility to those who die to protect us –“ Jack flinched at the word ‘die’ being associated with Ianto. “so James can’t really say no. He might even grant us a research team.”
“We?” asked Jack. “Us?”
“Yeah.” said Diana. “I want to help you. I know what it’s like ... to look back, and find nothing of what you knew.” she fell silent and looked away. Jack didn’t pry.
A breakthrough had been made. Diana would get an appointment with James to arrange the meeting for the pitch, and soon they would have all the access they needed to try and dredge up anything else that was left of Ianto.
“Oh!” said Diana, pausing as she got up to leave. “One of our new tech wizards had an idea.”
“How many people did you discuss this with?” asked Jack, incredulous. He had the feeling, after Mrs. Cooper’s warning not to cross James that they should be thus far keeping this little predicament under wraps.
“Trustworthy people.” said Diana. “Anyway ... she said that if you have a photograph, or an image of any kind of who we’re looking for, she can scan it and convert it into Binary coding. From there she can translate it into Old Binary, and from there into the Ancient Binary used in the twenty-first to twenty-ninth centuries. Then she can search through the Internet and find coding matches. It’ll be easier to unearth all this with image matches – any news reports, blog postings, BookFace sites that have an image of him will surely also contain some form of information either to him or someone close. What do you think?”
Jack turned the information over in his head. “I have one photograph. But promise ... promise me you will bring it back?”
“I swear.”
Jack rooted through his RAF coat, still in the same new condition it always was. Alien tech sometimes worked marvellous wonders. “Ianto bought me this coat.” he said as his fingers closed around the photograph paper in the pocket.
“It more than suits you.” smiled Diana. Jack grinned back. He produced the piece of thinning paper, and looked at it doubtfully.
“He used to be there.” he pointed to an area of the photo that looked exactly the same as the rest of the piece of paper. A couple of darker lines showed where vague silhouettes had stood, but the area where Jack indicated was completely blank to the naked eye. “I kissed him away ...” Jack said more to himself than to Diana, so she said nothing and took the ancient photo.
“I’ll see if there’s anything we can do with this.” she said, but Doubt was creeping through her stomach. It looked like a piece of yellowing paper to her. She decided not to give up hope. Maybe Lennie Tech Wizard-ette would be able to do something with it.
Jack touched her arm as she turned to leave. “Can I ask you something?”
“Go ahead.”
“You ... like this James guy, right?”
She turned a sweet shade of pink. “Yeah. But once you meet him, you will too.”
Jack gave her a watery smile. “Nothing’s going on between the two of you?”
“No.” she said ruefully.
“Then he’s an idiot. And you can tell him that from me.” winked Jack.
“I don’t think I will, thanks.” she said, trying to sound confident but grinning sheepishly.
“Hmm ... might damage your chances.” he joked.
“You’re a charmer, you are.” she smiled, and he reached out to brush hair out of her eyes. He moved closer, and lowered his head. He caught her lips gently and pressed them both together, snaking his other arm around her to pull her closer. She responded, and probed her tongue into his mouth.
She pulled back after a second or two. “Just a shag, yeah?” she asked, already looking lusty.
“I don’t do relationships.” shrugged Jack.
Diana grabbed him by the lapels and threw him onto the bed.
“Better make this quick, yeah?” she said, straddling his hips and kissing and biting his neck. “I’ve got a meeting in half an hour.”
FIN
And
fancieflights can stop sitting on me now. It makes it hard to type chapters :-P
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 01:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 02:50 am (UTC)Errr... that sounds wrong. I will point out that the sitting got you to do another chapter, so I don't know if I can reasonably get up right now. You'll have to convince me :) I need to know about James and Ianto!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 02:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 03:16 am (UTC)...A little unsettled by the last part, but it was brilliant!
Can't wait for more! <33
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 10:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 02:33 pm (UTC):DD
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 03:46 am (UTC)But, I'm getting a good feeling about James. Who makes it his business to know everything, eh? *keeps fingers crossed*
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 07:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 10:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 01:55 pm (UTC)Oh well.
I am beyond in love with this, and YAY for Jack getting somewhere. I am most pleased.
(L)
no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-24 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 09:02 am (UTC)The part with the picture open up the water again though...I can't stop the tears to fall.
no subject
Date: 2009-08-06 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 11:57 am (UTC)Cant wait to meet james
no subject
Date: 2009-08-09 12:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-08-31 07:48 pm (UTC)Can't wait to meet this 'James' character. Very interesting...